Mountain mumbles: Handy work meditations and the return to adventure – Jackson Hole News&Guide

Theres a lot to be said for laying floors. I dont really care what kind, Ill lay anything from your unique, expensive South American hardwoods to rough cut pine to durable laminate. If its wood, or looks like wood, Ill snap it together in your house.

I only get to lay floors occasionally. Its only when Im taking a break from drawing and writing to actually make real money that I work construction, and even then Im usually put to work on the more meatheaded tasks. Ill tear out that stupid wall between your kitchen and dining room fast. But when Im lucky, I get to lay floors with Wendell. Sometimes I wonder if I could quit drawing and let laying floors be my only creative pursuit.

Wendell has been selling and installing floor products for much longer than Ive been alive. He knows floors like a good guide knows the snowpack. Hes got an encyclopedic knowledge of products, and their merits, and the decades of experience it takes to just know certain things without having to think about them. But what really makes him special is that he reads all of the manufacturers instructions about every flooring product he installs. Having spent a solid portion of my life doing menial tasks in homes that are somewhere between the drywall is hung and the owner is moving in tomorrow, Im familiar with the general lack of instruction reading in the construction business.

Were men after all. Weve done this sort of thing before, instructions are just a waste of time so just push a little harder, hand me that sledge hammer, and well make it work. Working with Wendell is exactly the opposite. If you have to try too hard, youre probably doing it wrong, is his maxim. Hes repeated it to generation after generation of boneheaded workers; Im merely his latest helper.

On the first job I worked with Wendell, a co-worker walked off the job in a huff because he thought he knew better. He felt like he was being talked down to, hated reading directions and would rather just force it. Once he cooled down and got back to work, he refused to do it Wendells way, instead he slapped flooring around, breaking off tongues and crushing grooves. He ended up having to work a weekend, tearing up floor hed installed poorly and replacing it.

My first few hours installing a new flooring product always reminds me of my first few days backcountry skiing. I know what Im supposed to do, but things just arent quite clicking. Kick turns are hard. Im frustrated, wallowing, falling, angry. But just like backcountry skiing, its all about the attitude and experience.

Now I read the instructions. Now I make sure to fiddle with every product we install before we start on the house. I try different methods of clicking pieces together. I experiment with laying floor in the opposite direction the manufacturer recommends, a skill invaluable for closets and hallways. I learn how to deliver precise taps to encourage each piece to lock itself in. Usually on the job site I move with a reckless haste. Im used to tearing off roofs, scooping shingles into the truck below with abandon. Instead I fall into a shuffling rhythm. Small strides, careful not to damage the new floor. Its translated to the skin track too. I used to galumph around trying to keep up. Now its all about efficiency, barely lifting the ski, using my heel risers at every grade change.

Once I find my rhythm, laying floor feels just like spinning my mountain bike up a smooth climb, or skinning on the pass. Its as close to meditating as I get, a peaceful monotony that allows my mind to wander. If Im lucky, and I usually am, the house Im flooring has big windows that face the Tetons or Big Holes. Every time I look up from my work I explore those hills in my mind, reliving adventures and contemplating new routes. Meanwhile, the patch of new floor grows. Tap! Click! Grab another plank.

Soon enough the snow will fall and Ill trade my planks for skis. Ill put down my tapping block and hammer, and grab an ice axe and ski poles. This house will be ready for trim and baseboards, and Ill be out searching for fresh snow and new lines. But until then, Ill be reading instructions, shuffling slowly, and tapping gently. And when I finally click into my skis, trying to wrestle my touring bindings into uphill mode, Ill remember, If you have to try too hard, youre probably doing it wrong.

Originally posted here:
Mountain mumbles: Handy work meditations and the return to adventure - Jackson Hole News&Guide